


wait up, i'm coming home

by bellamyblakes (bcllamy)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, definite miller and bryan in the background, probably gonna make raven and gina a thing, roommate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 01:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10349247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bcllamy/pseuds/bellamyblakes
Summary: Maybe offering your recently vacated room to a stranger wasn't the best idea, but it definitely wasn't a bad idea either. Besides, Clarke was nice and pretty and Bellamy really needed a new roommate.But developing a crush on said stranger can make things a little complicated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was based off a prompt from tumblr along the lines of "giving a crying stranger flowers at two in the morning" and then it developed a mind of its own and turned into a roommate au. Thank you for any feedback, i appreciate it!!

"Okay, but did you see his head explode? Those effects, man...they were fucking awesome."

Bellamy rolled his eyes as Miller and Jasper, both lagging three feet behind him, raged on about the movie they just saw. It wasn't totally amazing, not worth the twelve bucks he spent on the ticket and the slushie, but Miller breathed action movies, especially if someones head exploded.

And Jasper was dragged along because Miller promised they would sneak in vodka stored in plastic water bottles underneath Bellamy's thick jacket. An empty water bottle and fourteen explosions later, they were now dragging their asses back to their respected apartments.

Bellamy wasn't technically drunk, but his friends didn't finish off those drinks by themselves and he kept smiling. He wondered if they could stop at the bar, maybe he could pick up a girl and....

He waved off the thought. His game was a little off when he was technically not drunk.

Bellamy blocked out Miller's drunk ramblings and instead admired the park the stretched to their right. The grass was bright green, even at this hour, and the lake was almost black, scattered with quiet ducks and teeming with fish that lurked just below the inky surface. A fountain bubbled from the center as a girl sat by the edge of the water.

Bellamy blinked once, twice, and yeah, he was pretty sure there was a girl sitting on the grass. He frowned and strained his eyes just in time to hear her sob. He glanced at his friends behind him, who hadn't noticed the girl obviously crying.

His dark eyes moved to the flowers in his hands, the ones he just bought for Octavia (from a twenty-four hour grocery store because it was two in the morning and he, drunkenly, forgot to get her something) because she had just officially moved into her own apartment, and thought the girl might like them.

He was being stupid, really, because what girl crying by a lake wanted flowers from a technically not drunk guy? But it made sense in his foggy, useless brain, and he was moving across the grass before he realized what his legs were doing.

"Bellamy, man, where are you going?" Miller called after him, but he waved him away, determined.

The girl's knees were pulled against her chest and she lifted her eyes to him as he neared. He was right; she was definitely crying.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she simply parted her lips as he took a seat next to her on the dewy grass and offered her his flowers.

"What?"

She was confused.

"You're crying. I thought these flowers would help."

Finally, his brain caught up to him, and Bellamy suddenly rolled his eyes. He was an idiot.

"Oh," she said. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and gently took the flowers from him. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome," he replied. He should have gotten up and left now that she accepted his gift, but he really didn't want to. He pressed his hands into the wet grass and leaned back.

"Are you okay?"

The girl smiled, her eyes moving off toward the black lake. "Not really."

"What happened?" he asked before he could catch himself. He winced. "Sorry, that was nosy."

She shook her head. "My boyfriend, who I just moved in with, has been cheating on me for two years. I just found out today from his girlfriend of six years and I just didn't want to go back to our apartment. His apartment."

"What a dick."

She nodded her head gently. "What a dick," she quietly repeated.

"How long have you been out here?"

"What time is it?"

"Two A.M."

"Really?"

Bellamy nodded.

"I...guess I should head back. I really don't want to see him." She paused. "I'm sorry, am I over sharing? You probably don't care."

She made a move to stand up, but Bellamy caught her wrist and blurted, "Do you need somewhere to stay?" before he could even think about his question.

"What?" she asked.

"Uh, if you don't want to go back, I've got an extra bed at my place? If you want. I just realized how serial murderish this sounds.”

"You're inviting me to stay at your place? You don't even know my name."

"I'm Bellamy," he said, his fingers slipping against her wrist to lamely shake her hand. "That's my friends Miller and Jasper. I live just up the street."

The girl's blue eyes shifted to the guys standing on the sidewalk. Miller, as if assuming Bellamy had spoken about him, waved his hand and smiled.

"I'm Clarke," she said, frowning at him. "And I'm rethinking my ability to make decisions because I am actually considering your offer."

He shrugged. "I know how it feels to stay in a place that makes you feel terrible."

He thought about his mother, her death, and the painful fact that her bedroom had been right next to Bellamy's, the air stale and dust collecting on her dresser. He sold what he could, got another job, packed up and moved himself and Octavia into a small apartment. Anything to get out of that fucking house.

"Um..." Clarke trailed off as she studied him. Their hands were still together from the handshake, and she pulled away to reach for her back pocket. "I'm going to text my friend where I'm going so if I end up missing they know where to look."

"Fair," Bellamy agreed. He didn't know why he invited this girl over, but it kind of pissed him off that she would have to go home and crawl into the bed of her dirty ass cheating boyfriend.

Clarke slipped her phone into her back pocket and stood, crushing her flowers to her chest. A single tear slipped down her cheek, but she brushed it away with her fingers and nodded at him.

When he offered for her to stay at his place, he didn't really think she would accept. Especially since he was literally a stranger.

But Octavia had just moved in with her boyfriend and hadn’t taken her bed over yet. Bellamy assumed she was sharing with Lincoln until they had an off day to finish up moving everything into their apartment. Besides, he didn’t think Octavia would mind if Bellamy let a girl who was crying in the park by herself at two in the morning because of a boy sleep in her bed for the night because she wasn’t comfortable sleeping in the same bed as the guy who cheated on her.

Bellamy introduced Clarke to Miller and Jasper, who thankfully didn’t ask about her, and they were on their way again.

“Remind me to buy Octavia a gift before tomorrow,” Bellamy pointed at Miller. They were both probably going to forget in the morning, but at least he was attempting.

Jasper split from them ten minutes later, heading toward his own apartment, and two blocks, three agonizing flights of steps and two attempts (and misses) to fit the key into the lock later, the three of them finally managed to stumble (Bellamy and Miller) and hesitantly step (Clarke) inside the apartment.

Miller kicked off his shoes, and plopped on the couch without a question. He lived too far away to walk and he definitely wasn't going to drive anywhere. Bellamy had offered his couch to him.

“The extra bed is this way,” Bellamy whispered, tipping his head toward the hall that lead to his room and Octavia’s old, half-furnished room. He shifted forward a step before he paused. “Are you thirsty or hungry? Would you like some water before you go to bed?”

He didn’t know why he sounded like a worried mother, but he didn’t want Clarke to feel uncomfortable in the small amount of time she was staying there. They would probably never speak again after tomorrow but that didn’t mean Bellamy wanted her to be dehydrated.

She smiled softly and shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m good.”

He nodded. “Okay. If you need water or something, help yourself. This way.”

She followed him down the hall, her hands cupping her elbows as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Bellamy really hoped she didn’t think he was going to murder her.

He opened the door to Octavia’s room and turned on the light, exposing the bed, a dresser without drawers, and the skeleton of a closet. There were still a couple of pictures stuck on the wall with tape; ones of Octavia as a baby in eight year old Bellamy’s arms, Octavia and Lincoln last year when he let her ride his motorcycle, their mother and Octavia when she was born.

“Ex-girlfriend’s room?” Clarke asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Nope. My little sister’s. She just moved in with her boyfriend but they haven’t gotten everything yet.”

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sure she doesn’t want a stranger sleeping in her bed, I’ll-”

“I asked her,” Bellamy lied. “She said it’s okay.”

Clarke hugged herself tighter. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Really,” he added when she still looked hesitant. Then she released a sigh and ran a hand down her tired face. He showed her where the extra blankets were and gave her his extra phone charger.

“Thank you,” she murmured quietly when he turned to close the door behind him.

“You’re welcome.”

Bellamy pushed open his bedroom door and managed to kick off his shoes before he collapsed on his bed and immediately passed out.

* * *

Bellamy woke up with a headache and a stuffed Pikachu tucked underneath his arm. He pressed his face into his pillow and waited for the throbbing just behind his eyes to stop.

He kind of remembered last night, mostly he just remembered acting like an idiot and giving a stranger some flowers because she was crying. And offering her his place to stay the night. And her accepting.

Bellamy wondered if she was still there or if she snuck out in the middle of the night. He'd probably never see her again if she did that. And he would be slightly put down because if he remembered anything, it was that she was cute.

Suspecting he should get out of bed and try to get rid of his headache, Bellamy sat up and shoved his Pikachu under his bed in case the cute girl stumbled into his room. Because how embarrassing would that be.

Bellamy shuffled around the kitchen, pulling out things to make breakfast. Miller was already gone, his shift started an hour ago, so it was just him. Or maybe the girl if she was still there. He felt opening the door to Octavia's old room to check and see if she was okay was a little creepy.

Just as he started to seriously worry if she died (because he totally banged a couple of pots together to see if she would wake up and there wasn't even a sound from the room), the door opened and she shuffled out, her blonde hair a mess, still in her jeans and t-shirt from last night, squinting at him.

"Hi," he said as she blinked and walked into the kitchen. "Clarke, right?"

"Yeah. Good morning? I'm not really sure what to say in this situation."

Bellamy grinned. "I think good morning is good. Did you sleep well?"

Clarke nodded, glancing around the kitchen, observing. "I did. Thank you. Also, thank you for not murdering me or something. You know, wearing my skin like clothes."

"Well, I think it would be a little rude since we just met."

She leaned against the counter, watching him cook bacon. "Oh, so you're waiting to get to know me better before the kill?"

He laughed, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Was she flirting with him? No, he was reading into it too much. She did just find out her boyfriend cheated on her, so definitely no flirting. She just had a flirty personality like him.

"Something like that. Are you hungry? I'm, obviously, making breakfast."

Clarke pressed her lips together. "I have thirty-seven missed calls from my boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend, now. I broke up with him last night."

"Over text?"

"Yeah. Is that bad?"

"No. He's a dick."

She released a relieved sigh and nodded, mostly to herself. “I’m sorry for blabbing about this. You probably don’t care.”

“I do care. Even though I don’t really know you. No one deserves to be cheated on,” Bellamy said, keeping himself busy by starting some pancakes from scratch. He wasn’t going to brag, but he was pretty good at cooking, thanks to having to basically raise his little sister since his mother was always at work, he had to teach himself to cook so he could feed the both of them. Leaving an eleven year old at home with full control of the stove and a hungry five year old wasn’t the best idea, but it worked out for the best.

“Thanks,” Clarke whispered.

“So you want to stay for breakfast?”

“Well, you are making pancakes. And those always make me feel better.”

To add to the bacon and pancakes, Bellamy made eggs and biscuits as well so they could have a full breakfast. Clarke told him about dropping out of medical school two months ago and pursuing her dreams of being an artist. She was twenty-one, just moved in with her now ex-boyfriend, an only child, and her best friend’s name was Wells. Her mother was a doctor, just recently remarried to a well-known lawyer, and her father died three years ago in a car accident that Clarke had blamed her mother for. They were okay now, still a little stiff around each other.

Bellamy listened wholly, surprised at how interested he was in this stranger. He was very wary about what he told her, skipping everything about his mother’s cancer, how painful it was to watch her deteriorating right in front of him. He simply told her she died when he was nineteen and that was that. Clarke didn’t ask any questions about his mother and he appreciated it.

He didn’t know how much time they spent talking until he glanced at his phone and realized his shift at the coffee shop started in thirty minutes.

“Can I drop you off somewhere?” Bellamy asked as he cleaned up the kitchen.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I can walk to the park from here.”

“Is your car at the park?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, just wait five minutes while I change and I’ll drive you there.”

“You don’t have to,” Clarke started, but he shook his head.

“Really. It’s hot outside and you’re wearing jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. It’d be a shame if you passed out.”

Clarke stopped protesting after that, waiting patiently as Bellamy changed into jeans and a shirt, grabbing his apron from his dresser. He searched for his keys and wallet while Clarke slipped on her shoes and then they were out of the apartment and in the parking lot. Bellamy was little embarrassed about his old beat up baby blue truck since Clarke obviously came from money. But she smiled and climbed in without a word.

The drive was short and quiet with the exception of Clarke making fun of Bellamy’s taste in music. They were at the park too soon and suddenly Clarke was getting out of his car, smiling.

“Thank again for everything,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“No problem.”

“Maybe we’ll see each other around.”

Bellamy smiled, knowing they wouldn’t and hating how disappointed he felt at the thought.

“Maybe we will.”

* * *

Bellamy did see her again, two weeks later when she entered the bar wearing a pair of tight jeans and a low cut shirt. She was holding on to the elbow of a girl with dark hair and matching eyes who came in regularly.

“Hey,” Miller said, nudging Bellamy and tipping his head toward the two girls. “Isn’t that the girl you let stay the night and fell in love with?”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I didn’t fall in love with her,” he grumbled.

“You sure as hell moped about her for a couple of days.”

“Shut up,” he hissed, pouring shots for the group of girls huddled at the end of the bar. He tried to distract himself for the next hour, finding excuses to hide in the kitchen and help out the cook, anything to keep his eyes from Clarke.

When he went out to make sure Miller wasn’t getting swamped, he heard his name being shouted. Without thinking about it, he turned and there she was, pressed up against the bar with her friend and a smile on her face. She waved him over and there was no way he could pretend he didn’t hear her.

“Hey,” he said as he approached them.

“I thought you worked at a coffee shop,” Clarke said, leaning her elbows against the bar.

“I do. I work here at night.”

“That’s cool! This is Raven, my new friend.”

The girl with the dark hair grinned at Bellamy and he had a feeling she didn’t like him much, but he wasn’t sure why. She pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows, her eyes darting between the two of them.

“Well,” Raven said, “I’m gonna go find a cute boy to talk to. Or girl.”

And with that, she turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

“That’s my ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend,” Clarke explained.

“The one who cheated on you?”

“Yeah. She’s really great and I’ve been moping around these past couple of weeks so she suggested we go out.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Bellamy said with a nod. “How are you doing?” he finally asked.

“I’m good, actually. I had to move back in with my mom and step-dad, which sucks. I needed to get out of there as soon as possible and I couldn’t wait that long while I looked for an apartment and some roommates.”

“You’re still looking?”

Clarke nodded, resting her chin in her hands.

Well, he still hadn’t found a replacement for Octavia, and he really liked Clarke. Platonically, of course. Was it crazy if he offered her his extra room?

“Um, actually, I still haven’t found a new roommate to replace my sister. I was kind of just going to put an ad on Craigslist or something, but if you really want to, you can have it.”

Was he being weird? He felt like Clarke was going to give him a weirded out look, disappear into the crowd and never talk to him again. But it made sense to him, and he really did need another roommate. His only option was Jasper, and Bellamy loved him, but he couldn’t put up with him accidentally lighting the entire complex on fire or using all of their expensive pots on his weird experiments. The boy needed his own place where he could ruin his own things.

Clarke’s face lit up, her mouth curving into a smile. “Really?”

Honestly, it seemed like a very good idea to him.

“If you want it, the room is yours. As long as you don’t befriend us, move in, steal all of our obviously expensive things when we’re not home one day,” he teased.

“Since you didn’t murder me a couple of weeks ago, I think I’ll give you the same courtesy.”

Bellamy pressed his hand against his heart. “You are too kind.”

She smiled, closing her eyes and ducking her head for a moment. She was incredibly cute and it kind of hurt Bellamy to watch her.

“When do you need that room occupied?”

“Uh, whenever you want, I guess.”

Clarke looked relieved. “Is Monday okay? I have got to get out of my mom’s house. I never thought I'd have to see my step-dad in a pink fluffy robe every morning.”

They agreed Monday was a good day, and Clarke tossed around the idea of hiring a mover, but Bellamy thought it would be a waste of money since his truck was working just fine and Monday was his day off.

“I’ll pay you,” she offered, but he shook his head.

“It’s fine, really. It’s either help you move or listen to Miller complain about his boyfriend before he comes over and they make out for three hours.”

Clarke giggled, her eyes flickering over to Miller at the end of the bar. “All right, Bellamy. I'll save you from having to suffer.”

“Thanks, I'd appreciate it.”

They exchanged numbers, Clarke leaning over the bar to show the devil emoji she put next to his name, Bellamy proudly showing off the emoji of a girl wearing a tiara that he put next to hers.

“Hey,” she said with a frown, reaching for his phone. He pulled it out of her reach with a grin. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means princess.”

“I'm not a princess,” Clarke argued, a little crease forming between her eyebrows. When Bellamy only raised his eyebrows, she huffed. “Fine then. I'm changing yours to the middle finger-”

“Hey, that's not fair. I like the devil emoji.”

She studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowed. “Okay, I'll keep it.”

Raven appeared out of nowhere, holding onto a beer and two other people, one of which was Gina, another bartender who had the night off (of course she was spending it at the bar), and a darker boy who was taller than Bellamy with a nice smile.

“Look who I found,” Raven said with a grin.

“Wells!” Clarke squeaked happily before throwing herself into the boy’s arms. He caught her, his smile widening.

“Gina,” Bellamy said, raising his eyebrows when her brown eyes met his. “You know Raven? And Clarke?”

“Sort of,” she replied.

Clarke turned back around, holding onto Wells’ wrist. “Wells, this is Bellamy. I'm moving in with him. Bellamy, this is Wells, my best friend.”

Bellamy reached across the bar and took Wells’ outstretched hand. His handshake was firm and Bellamy liked him already.

Raven started tugging on Clarke’s shirt, trying to drag her out onto the dance floor, so with a smile, Clarke said, “I'll see you Monday?”

Bellamy nodded. “Monday.”

Raven tried to drag Gina along as well, but she shook her off before leaning across the bar, giving Bellamy a smile he didn't like.

“Don't worry, I'll put in a good word for you,” she whispered with a wink, and then she was gone.

* * *

Bellamy pulled into Clarke’s driveway at lunchtime, triple checking her text to make sure he was at the right house. Her house looked straight out of a millionaire's catalog; white brick, columns out front, a wrap around front porch with a fountain in the front yard.

Bellamy’s chest felt heavy as he threw his truck into park and stared up at the house. What was she going to think about his and Miller’s apartment? It wasn't like she hadn't seen it before, and it wasn't dingy or super cheap, but it sure as hell wasn't a mansion.

Maybe he made a mistake. Clarke wouldn't want to live in a small apartment when she had this house.

The front door opened and Clarke stepped out, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts. Her blonde hair was piled on the top of her head in a bun and she wasn't wearing any makeup. She looked even better than she did when he saw her at the bar.

She waved, grinning, and skipped down the stairs to his car just as he was getting out.

“You didn't tell me you lived in a mansion, Richie Rich,” Bellamy grumbled, half jokingly. Obviously if her mother was doctor and her step-father was a lawyer, they had to live somewhere nice. And by somewhere nice, Bellamy assumed a house that was nicer than his apartment or the shitty place he grew up in.

Clarke made a face as Bellamy shut the door to his truck. “It's not my mansion, it's theirs. It's ugly and I hate it,” she said with a frown, and he had to press his lips together to hide an affectionate smile.

He followed her up the steps to her house, just noticing she was barefoot. The inside of her house smelled like lavender and even the air felt expensive. Clarke led him up to the second floor and pushed open the door to her bedroom.

“Don't judge me, okay? I didn't unpack anything because I wanted to move back out quickly,” Clarke said, giving him a look that meant she was serious.

“I wouldn't dream of it,” he replied and she scowled at his sarcasm.

Cardboard boxes were stacked hazardously all over her room, some were open with clothes hanging out of them while others were still taped up. Clarke’s closet doors were wide open but the inside was completely bare. The walls were a light pink and she had a couple of posters hung up, one of which was of Backstreet Boys.

“Backstreet Boys? Really, Clarke? I expected better.”

“Shut up,” she said, her cheeks flushing.

Bellamy shrugged and picked up the nearest box. “We can put as many boxes as we can fit into your car and then I can put your bed and stuff in my truck.”

She nodded and picked up a box. Bellamy wasn't sure how, but after a couple of rounds of carrying boxes to Clarke’s car, it turned into a competition of who could carry the most boxes in one trip.

Clarke lost once she missed the last step of her front porch and landed on her knees on the hard concrete.

“Oops,” she said, pushing the boxes away and accessing the damage of her already bleeding knees.

“This was a dumb idea.”

“This was your idea.”

“No, I just went along with it even though I knew it was morally wrong.”

“Shut up,” Clarke grumbled, but Bellamy reached down to help her up anyways.

“That’s not good. Are you okay?”

She waved her hand, already climbing up the steps to go back inside. “I’m tough, I’ll be okay. I should probably pick the gravelly bits out.”

Bellamy quickly collected the boxes she’d dropped, organized them neatly inside her car, and then met Clarke in the kitchen. She was ruffling through a First Aid kit, pulling out big bandaids and Neosporin.

“Here,” he said, pulling the things from her hands. “Sit down, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, you've had medical training?” Clarke asked, raising an eyebrow. Bellamy watched as blood trickled down the front of her shin.

“No, but I had a very clumsy little sister. I think I know how to put a band aid on.”

She challenged him by crossing her arms over her chest and Bellamy decided, very suddenly, that he liked her a lot.

“Stop being difficult, Griffin,” he said and she plopped down into a chair with a dramatic sigh. “Get used to losing,” he said and she kicked his shin when he stepped toward her.

He dropped down on his knees, taking the cloth she had wet to gently wipe away the blood on her left knee. He slipped a hand behind her knee to steady himself as he spread Neosporin over the scrape, hoping his rough fingers didn't hurt.

“Am I doing a great job?” he asked, mostly because the silence was making him nervous, like she was going to kick him again.

“Fantastic. I, a med-school dropout, wouldn't have been able to compare to your band aid appliance.”

“You're such a smartass. If I would have known, I wouldn't have offered my room to you,” Bellamy replied as he peeled open the band aid package. When he glanced up, Clarke was smiling at him, amused. He did have to admit it was fun to banter with her.

“No, that's okay, I’ll just take one of those cardboard boxes and make a home in it. Before you abandon me could you at least help me tape a few together so i could have a guest room? You might want to come over some time.”

Bellamy laughed at that, switching to her other knee. He shook his head, having a hard time coming up with a reply. Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, he didn't have to because Clarke’s mother stepped into the kitchen with a surprised expression on her face. Behind her stood a man with an equal expression.

“Hi,” Clarke said, so casual. “This is Bellamy.”

Having to meet Clarke’s parents while kneeling in front of her sticking band aids on her knees because she fell playing a stupid game with her boxes was probably not one of the best scenarios Bellamy could imagine.

But her mother reached down to shake his hand and her step-father followed suit, each smiling warmly at him like he met every good expectation that a roommate could.

They introduced themselves as Abby and Kane and invited Bellamy to stay for dinner.

“Oh, no,” Clarke interrupted, shooting Bellamy a look that meant she knew what she was going. “That's okay, we already had plans to eat with Wells.”

“Aw. Next time then,” Abby said, smiling.

Kane helped Bellamy load up the rest of Clarke’s things in the back of his truck and then they were on their way after their goodbyes, Clarke following behind Bellamy.

He liked her parents, they were really kind to him which he didn't expect. Bellamy glanced at his rear view mirror, watching Clarke put her heart and soul into singing some song, and pressed his lips together.

She was really cute and funny and Bellamy might have been developing a teeny crush on her. But that was fine, he knew how to handle his feelings. Things weren't going to get weird between them because his feelings would go away.

He glanced at her again before shaking his head and concentrating on the road instead.

 _This isn't going to be a problem_ , he told himself. But he really wasn't sure if he could trust that.

**Author's Note:**

> this is going to have more chapters i just can't figure out how to make it say "1/?" oh well. also follow me on twitter (@bcllamy) and my tumblr is seaweedbrainer thanks ;)


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